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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26510605">an entire devotion to you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonedgeralt/pseuds/stonedgeralt'>stonedgeralt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>comms batch 1 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Slight hand kink, dummies in love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:01:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26510605</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonedgeralt/pseuds/stonedgeralt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaskier’s mouth falls open. He stares at the ring in wonder. “How did you—?”</p><p>“Don’t worry about that,” Geralt says. “See if it fits.”</p><p>
  <i>I’d buy you a hundred rings, if you wanted me to.</i>
</p><p>Wide-eyed, Jaskier slips the ring onto his middle finger. It fits perfectly. “Geralt—”</p><p>
  <i>You have such lovely hands.</i>
</p><p>---</p><p>Geralt is in love with Jaskier. Instead of being open about his feelings, he takes to writing down his thoughts about Jaskier in a journal.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>comms batch 1 [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889128</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>324</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>an entire devotion to you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/valrosee/gifts">valrosee</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This one is for my incredible friend Val - I hope that this cheers you up a bit, my love! ❤</p><p>Thank you <i>very</i> much to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubadore">Dallie</a> for her continually wonderful beta work!</p><p>Title is from a <a href="http://www.john-keats.com/briefe/000320.htm">letter</a> written by John Keats to Fanny Brawne in March 1820.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ugh,” Jaskier groans. “How am <em> I </em> the one who’s filthy? You’ve barely a speck of mud on you!”</p><p>Geralt hums as he leans his swords against the wall of their room. “You’re the one who insisted on accompanying me on a drowner contract.” </p><p>“I didn’t realize we’d be traipsing through a swamp for two hours.” Jaskier carefully sets his lute on the bed, then looks down at himself in dismay. “This ensemble was <em> new, </em> Geralt, only a month old!”</p><p>“Who were you trying to impress? Drowners don’t care about doublets.”</p><p>Jaskier gasps indignantly. Hands on hips, he launches into a spiel about how, as a Continent-renowned bard, it’s important for him to always look his best, or what would people think, Geralt?</p><p>
  <em> You always look nice. </em>
</p><p>Geralt nods and hums appropriately. He sets about reheating the bath he’d ordered and adding a few drops each of some of Jaskier’s favorite oils – chamomile, citrus, and lavender. Then he turns back to Jaskier and gestures toward the tub.</p><p>“You don’t understand, Geralt. I—” Jaskier stops. “What’s this?”</p><p>“A bath,” Geralt says.</p><p>“Very helpful, thank you.” Jaskier squints at the tub, then at Geralt. “Is it… for me?”</p><p>“I didn’t exactly plan on you being the one who’d need it, but yes.” Geralt gestures toward the tub again. “It’s for you, now.”</p><p>“Er, alright.” Jaskier begins unbuttoning his mud-encrusted doublet. Geralt turns away quickly, both for politeness’ sake and to hide the blush rising in his cheeks. </p><p>
  <em> I wish I could see you naked. </em>
</p><p>Geralt pulls a stool up beside the tub and sits down, rolling up his sleeves. He closes his eyes, and Jaskier slips into the water with a pleased sigh. Jaskier wets his hair, then reaches for the soap. Suddenly, he gasps. “Ah, shit, my rings.”</p><p>Before Jaskier can slip the jewelry from his fingers, Geralt says, “Let me.” Jaskier raises an eyebrow, but holds his hands up so that Geralt can carefully remove each ring. </p><p>
  <em> Your hands always look so lovely. </em>
</p><p>Once the rings have been safely set aside, Geralt lathers up his hands and begins washing Jaskier’s hair, which really is quite dirty. The white foam quickly turns brown with mud; it takes three rinses before the water runs clear.</p><p>
  <em> Your hair is so soft. </em>
</p><p>Geralt is careful to keep the soapy water out of Jaskier’s eyes. When Jaskier’s hair is clean, Geralt massages yarrow oil into his shoulders; he’s been complaining of soreness there recently. If his hands wander, well, Geralt can blame it on the slippery oil.</p><p>
  <em> I wish I could touch you like this always. </em>
</p><p>After that night, it becomes a routine: Jaskier will bathe Geralt, and Geralt bathes Jaskier in return. They never discuss this shift in their system, but Geralt doesn’t mind. He’s content in being able to give back to Jaskier, happy that he can return the favor. Geralt pays him the same careful attention that Jaskier gives during a bath, working the tangles out of his chestnut hair and massaging the knots from his strong shoulders.</p><p>
  <em> I want to take care of you. </em>
</p><p>He hopes that his efforts bring Jaskier the same sense of security and peace that he feels when Jaskier takes care of him.</p><p>
  <em> I love you. </em>
</p><p>***</p><p>Southern Velen during Faeinn is horrendously humid. Mosquitoes and horse flies buzz about their heads; the road ripples in the distance. Roach’s tail is in constant motion, swatting at the insects swarming her rump. </p><p>Jaskier is too exhausted to even complain. He’s been dragging his feet for the past two miles, and his face is shiny with sweat. Geralt’s in a similar state: hair sticking to his forehead, smallclothes soaked, eyes half-closed against the brightness of the sun.</p><p>Wordlessly, he halts Roach and dismounts.</p><p>“What’s happening?” Jaskier asks. “Oh, gods, don’t make me run, Geralt, please.”</p><p>“Get on Roach,” Geralt says.</p><p>“Get on— What?”</p><p>“You heard me.” Geralt pats the saddle. “Get on Roach.”</p><p>“Ah… alright.” Jaskier carefully hands his lute case to Geralt and mounts Roach, who is too tired to put up a fuss. Jaskier rewards her with a gentle pat. “Good girl.”</p><p>
  <em> I wish we had the coin to get you a horse of your own. </em>
</p><p>Geralt walks ahead to hide his pleased smile. Jaskier urges Roach into movement, and they continue down the road in silence. The next town isn’t far, and Geralt has enough coin for a room, some food for them both, and a stable for Roach. He doesn’t want to make Jaskier sleep in the woods again, not in this heat.</p><p>Half an hour later, they reach Belerush. Jaskier dismounts Roach; Geralt leads her to the stables while Jaskier heads for the inn to reserve a room. Geralt spends some extra time with Roach, praising her for her good behavior while brushing her down.</p><p>
  <em> Roach is a good judge of character. </em>
</p><p>Geralt finally gets to the inn, following Jaskier’s scent to find the right room. He opens the door to find Jaskier sound asleep in the middle of the bed, fully clothed and snoring quietly. Geralt leans against the door frame, smiling fondly.</p><p>
  <em> You’re so beautiful. </em>
</p><p>Jaskier hadn’t taken off his rings before falling asleep. Geralt knows he’ll be cross with himself if he loses one in the bedding. He sits on the edge of the mattress and takes one of Jaskier’s hands in his own. Then he pulls each of Jaskier’s rings from his fingers, setting them on the bedside table. Geralt does the same with Jaskier’s other hand. They look so strange without the jewelry. Hardly daring to breathe, Geralt intertwines their fingers and presses their palms together. </p><p>
  <em> I wish I could do this forever. </em>
</p><p>Jaskier stirs and makes a soft sound. Geralt quickly drops his hand, blushing furiously. His palm is pleasantly warm where it had touched Jaskier’s.</p><p>
  <em> I love you.  </em>
</p><p>***</p><p>They’re making their way through Novigrad when Jaskier gets distracted by a jewelry stall. Geralt does his best to sound irritated, but it’s getting more difficult to put on the broody witcher act with Jaskier. </p><p>Jaskier returns looking crestfallen, and explains that the merchant - “a real prick” - wants over three hundred crowns for the ring Jaskier had selected. </p><p>“Ah, well,” Jaskier says. “Guess it wasn’t meant for me.”</p><p>Geralt looks at Jaskier closely. The smile on his face is clearly forced, and his blue eyes aren’t twinkling as brightly as usual. </p><p>
  <em> I hate it when you’re sad. </em>
</p><p>“Wait here,” Geralt says. He crosses the square and comes to a stop in front of the stall. After a brief and unpleasant conversation, Geralt ends up using Axii to persuade the merchant into letting the ring go for a much more reasonable price. He returns to Jaskier and drops the ring in his hand. “Here.”</p><p>Jaskier’s mouth falls open. He stares at the ring in wonder. “How did you—?”</p><p>“Don’t worry about that,” Geralt says. “See if it fits.”</p><p>
  <em> I’d buy you a hundred rings, if you wanted me to. </em>
</p><p>Wide-eyed, Jaskier slips the ring onto his middle finger. It fits perfectly. “Geralt—”</p><p>
  <em> You have such lovely hands. </em>
</p><p>There’s a sudden commotion behind them. “Thief! Guards, that witcher is a thief!”</p><p>Geralt grabs Jaskier’s hand and starts running.</p><p>
  <em> You’re worth it. </em>
</p><p>They make it to their room at the Kingfisher. Jaskier is giddy and breathless, and thanks Geralt profusely for the ring. He admires it in the sunlight streaming through the window, cooing over it like a fool. Geralt watches him with a soft smile. </p><p>
  <em> I want to make you happy. </em>
</p><p>Eventually, Jaskier decides he’s hungry, and the two of them go downstairs for a meal. Jaskier flirts with a few women, and Geralt shrugs it off - he can tell when Jaskier’s attempts at wooing are serious, and these aren’t in the slightest. But then a pretty redhead walks in, and Jaskier keeps making eyes at her, and Geralt can tell she’s interested, too. </p><p>
  <em> I want you to look at me like that. </em>
</p><p>Jaskier pays for their food and drinks, winks at Geralt, and disappears upstairs with the woman. Geralt watches as Jaskier guides her with his hand at the small of her back, the citrine stone of his ring glinting in the candlelight. Geralt’s stomach twists, and his eyes sting with the threat of tears.</p><p>
  <em> I want to be enough for you. </em>
</p><p>Geralt leaves the Kingfisher and wanders the streets of Novigrad, trying to distract himself from the ache in his chest.</p><p>
  <em> I want to touch you like they do. </em>
</p><p>He wipes his eyes and stares up at the moon.</p><p>
  <em> I love you, Jaskier. </em>
</p><p>***</p><p>Geralt’s just returned from purchasing potion supplies. He opens the door to the inn room and says, “They’re serving dinner downstairs, you interested?” No answer. “Jaskier?”</p><p>He turns to see Jaskier sitting on the edge of the bed, back toward the door. Geralt quickly sets his supplies down and hurries to Jaskier’s side. “Are you—?” </p><p>Jaskier is holding a journal - Geralt’s journal, in which he’s been collecting all the little thoughts of Jaskier that cross his mind. It’s open to one of many pages where Geralt had written about how lovely Jaskier’s hands are. Geralt makes a strangled sound, but doesn’t try to snatch the journal away.</p><p>“Is this true?” Jaskier looks up at him. His expression is carefully neutral. </p><p>Geralt looks back helplessly. This isn’t what he’d planned - Jaskier wasn’t supposed to find the journal, much less <em> read </em> it.</p><p>“Is it true?” Jaskier asks again. There’s a very subtle tremble in his voice.</p><p>Geralt hangs his head. “Yes,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.” </p><p>Jaskier is silent for several moments. Then he laughs. “Sorry for what?” he asks. “For loving me?”</p><p>“Yes.” Geralt’s face is burning. Jaskier probably hates him, now. He should’ve just been honest from the start.</p><p>“Oh, Geralt.” Jaskier leans over into Geralt’s field of vision and smiles softly. “You don’t need to be sorry.” When Geralt doesn’t reply, Jaskier hums and pats the space beside him. “Sit with me.” </p><p>Geralt hesitates for a moment, then sits down, leaving a good bit of space between them. He opens his mouth to speak, but he can’t find the right words.</p><p>“How long have you known?” Jaskier asks.</p><p>Geralt can answer that. “Three years,” he says quietly, “give or take.”</p><p>Jaskier wheezes. “Three years? Oh, gods.” He laughs in disbelief. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I just… I didn’t expect you to figure it out before I did.”</p><p>Geralt nearly falls off the bed at that. “You— What?” he croaks.</p><p>“I love you, Geralt.” Jaskier smiles sheepishly; his face is pink with embarrassment. “Been coming to terms with it for about a year. I’m sorry that I didn’t<span>—</span>”</p><p>“You love me?” Geralt whispers. </p><p>“Yes,” Jaskier answers, “I do.” He reaches out and gently cups Geralt’s face in one hand. “I love you.”</p><p>Warmth blooms in Geralt’s chest and spreads through his body, all the way to his toes. He leans into Jaskier’s touch; the cool metal of his rings feels nice against Geralt’s flushed cheek. Then he murmurs, “I love you, too.”</p><p>“Geralt…”</p><p>Geralt turns his head slightly to press a kiss to Jaskier’s palm. “I love you, Jaskier.” It feels so good to finally say it - four little words epitomizing three years’ worth of hurriedly scrawled thoughts and feelings. “I love you,” he repeats, just to hear it again, to <em> feel </em> it again.</p><p>Jaskier’s breath hitches. “Geralt,” he says, “if you don’t kiss me this instant—”</p><p>Geralt surges forward and presses his lips to Jaskier’s soft mouth. Jaskier’s surprised sound becomes a sigh as he wraps his arms around Geralt’s neck. The kiss is a bit clumsy - they don’t know their way around each other like this yet. But it’s still sweet, earnest, eager; it’s <em> Jaskier, </em>and it’s perfect.</p><p>When they finally part, Jaskier says, “Not my best, but we’ll get there.”</p><p>Geralt disagrees, but his mouth is busy peppering kisses over Jaskier’s face.</p><p>“I suppose we have plenty of time to practice,” Jaskier muses, laughing.</p><p>Leaning back, Geralt grins and asks, “Let’s get started, shall we?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come chat with me on Twitter <a href="https://www.twitter.com/stonedgeralt">@stonedgeralt</a>!</p><p>Special thanks to Eman, smiecht, OrgasmicCrayons, and Kendra for their support!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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